


I'll Love You Forever, I'll Like You For Always

by Xander_The_Undead



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Rising (2007)
Genre: Artificial Insemination, Child raising while being cannibalistic murders, Children being children, Hannibal is not prepared for this, M/M, Murder Husbands, Pregnancy, Superfecundation happens, Surrogacy, Will isn't much better, but also children being fucking adorable, children being the fucking worst, family fic, live birth, poopy diapers, sanity lost from constant crying, spit-up
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:46:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27031396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xander_The_Undead/pseuds/Xander_The_Undead
Summary: Two children taken away from Will by Hannibal's hands. Now, away from everything and finally together as one, Hannibal wishes to give back what he took.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 9
Kudos: 76





	1. From the Start

**Author's Note:**

> A huge huge thank you to the amazing [Dontbevain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dontbevain) for betaing!
> 
> I'll Love You Forever by Robert Munsch

[ ](https://imgur.com/jVimrhx)

Family.

Children.

Procreation.

The human’s biological urge to pass on their genetic code so that it may live on for another generation. It was something that Will had always thought he wanted, that he needed to make himself feel more like those around him. To let his paternal instincts take over to raise and protect something that was small and helpless and needed him to survive. 

He’d had that in Abigail.

He’d thought he would have that with Margot.

But Hannibal had taken both of those away from him in a calculated act of jealousy and grief. He had been so angry and hurt, his dreams coming down at his feet like shattered glass, the shards getting lodged in his heart as he cried.

He’d wanted to hurt Hannibal, make him feel the same things that Will had felt, but as time went on, he realized that he had already accomplished that. He had broken Hannibal’s heart over and over again without really even knowing by refusing him.

After the fall, Will’s one last betrayal; he had quickly learned that as long as he had Hannibal, then he didn’t need the normal layout of a family. He had the man who had brought out what he truly was, a rabid wolf cloaked in sheep’s wool and still looked at him with undying love. Hannibal was his family now, and if he looked at children with their parents whilst they walked the markets of Cuba, it was only to admire how adorable they were. He had thought everything was fine; they were both happy, only themselves in their own little world where they could lay in bed for hours hugging, kissing and making each other cry out in ecstasy. When they were forced to move a third time after the authorities in Mombasa attempted to solve the string of murders Hannibal left behind, Will had been surprised during dinner when Hannibal suddenly brought up the topic.

“I’ve been thinking,” he started softly after finishing his bite and blotting his mouth with his napkin. “I think it’s about time we add to our little family.”

Will froze mid-bite, frowning slightly as he set his fork speared with meat down back on his plate. “Like another dog?”

At the slight twitch of Hannibal’s left eye, Will couldn’t hold back a small smile, but then grew serious when his mind went to Beatrice; the British Shorthair cat that Hannibal had brought home when Will had brought home his fourth stray dog. She was truly awful, but only to Will and his dogs; to Hannibal, she was nothing but the sweetest thing. It wasn’t that he hated cats, not at all. It was just when Beatrice would hiss and scratch at him or his dogs; he wanted nothing more than to toss that blue-haired devil out the second-story window. 

“Please don’t say another cat.” He was sure his expression was a combination of weary and trepidation.

“Of course not.” Hannibal waved his hand in the air as if that were the silliest thing, but Will still saw the amused smile on his partner’s face. Hannibal knew perfectly well Will’s feelings on Beatrice. “I only need my lovely girl as a furred companion, unlike someone I know.”

Will’s lips twisted into an unimpressed purse before he gestured for Hannibal to continue, and he felt his body go numb at the next words the older man uttered.

“I was thinking of a child.”

“Like a baby?”

“Normally children start like that, yes,” Hannibal replied smugly and took a sip of his wine. “But you are correct. I think we should have a child.”

For some reason, the words made sense, but the meaning still didn’t seem to click in Will’s head completely. Hannibal wanted a child. He wanted a child to raise with Will. From whom he had technically taken two children from already. Will swallowed, knowing Hannibal no longer carried guilt over that. Will had forgiven him for it, so there was no reason to be so guarded about this.

But, there was.

Will made himself take a moment to calm himself down, take a slow and steady breath in before releasing it. “A child is quite a lot of responsibility, Hannibal. Especially for our lives, which is not exactly a life appropriate for a child.”

He sighed when Hannibal gave a quiet chuckle. “Will, there are several things that are not appropriate for children, and yet parents do them every day, but behind closed doors.”

Will pursed his lips. “So you’re saying as long as the kid doesn’t see, we can keep killing people?”

He was cruelly happy when he saw his partner’s face shift into a small frown, an irritated huff escaping those thin lips. “When you say it like that, it sounds crass.”

“Oh,” Will replied, voice low and dripping with sarcasm. “So sorry. Please continue.”

His partner eyed him shrewdly, Hannibal’s mouth still downturned into something disapproving, but he only lingered on it for a moment before continuing. Will could see the slightest shift on the man’s expression, almost a look of worry before that perfect poker face was back, his brown eyes guarded. It hurt a little that Hannibal still felt the need for that, but Will knew it wasn’t to shut him out but for Hannibal to be brave enough to say what he wanted even if it might be ugly to Will. 

“I am happy,” he started, placing his hands in his lap and fixing his plate with a stare. “These past five years have truly been some of the most joyous times I’ve had since I was a child. Pure joy, not satisfaction or pleasure from my music, cooking or other hobbies, but real happiness.”

The stone in his stomach seemed to grow colder and heavier while his cheeks blushed red. Hannibal often spoke of his feelings for Will, telling him daily how much Will gave him by being there—being in a relationship that they had both been running towards only to stop short out of fear or morality.

“I see how you look at the children in the city.” When Will tried to interject, Hannibal silenced him with a raised hand. “Please don’t try to deny it, that would be an insult to us both. I want to give you everything you want as well as share that thrill of raising a small life together.”

“Hannibal,” Will interjected quietly. “We’ll be old parents. I’ll at least be in my sixties by the time they're old enough to go to college and you…”

He trailed off at the sour look Hannibal shot him, ever the vain one, and then just shook his head.

“Many couples have children later these days,” Hannibal argued lightly, picking up his wine glass to take another sip, his lips starting to turn a soft purple red color. “I believe we are more than capable.”

They talked about it long into the night, going back and forth on reasons they should and reasons they shouldn’t. In the end, the should conquered the shouldn’t, even if most of the reasons were selfish and emotional. From there, they had to form a plan…

Adoption had been brought up, wanting to give a home to a child who was given up, along with Hannibal’s experience as an orphan, but things became tricky once they thought about it. Adoption had a vigorous vetting process; people and governments would look into their lives deeply, trying to find evidence that would consider them ineligible to raise a child. Even with Hannibal’s source of forging documents perfectly, Will wasn’t sure how far back the governments would want to look so they had decided to cross out adoption. The next idea was to find a surrogate, which suited what they needed just fine. No in-depth background searches, only a few documents to prove they were who they said and money. Money was always key.

Next was to find a good place to take root. Will absolutely refused to have a child and move continuously like he had when he was younger. They would have a home, and it would stay that way. It also meant not traveling to places where people might still be on the lookout for Hannibal and him. Though it had been eight years since Hannibal’s broken-hearted killing spree in Europe, they still needed to be careful. Paris was out of the question; the French police were still interested in finding Hannibal after Doctor Fell's death, as was Italy for obvious reasons. After much deliberation, debating and sex against too many flat parts of the house when the debate had turned too heated, they finally decided on England. Since Hannibal knew more of the cities and towns than Will, he decided where he thought they should live and quickly picked Battersea, a district in South West London. It had great schools, wonderful markets and shops, superb restaurants, an art culture that met Hannibal's standards.

And the last one, Hannibal had a smug smile as he said it, Battersea is known for its animal shelter, The Battersea Dogs and Cats home. Hannibal knew precisely how to draw him in, and Will gave it his seal of approval without much thought afterward.

Once they had settled on a place, new identities had to be created along with employment, because Will refused to have a child while neither were working. Even if they had plenty of money to live comfortably for the rest of their lives. They had a little bit of difficulty with the aliases this time, obviously unable to use their birth names. They were conflicted over the fact that their child would not share a name with any connection to their history. Hannibal advised that “the lies built on truth are some of the strongest stories.”

So they worked on a few combinations.

Lecter - Graham

LeRaham

Hannibal Domantas Lecter VIII

Dominic Han LeRaham

William Shannon Graham

Wilfred Lir LeRaham

“Lir?” Will asked when he looked at the names Hannibal had drawn up for them with a frown. “Like the god of the sea?”

Will flushed happily when Hannibal gave a pleased hum, moving to stand behind him by the desk that held all of their papers and documents. Every single one with their official seals and crests, signatures of doctors, witnesses and professionals that never existed. Will traced the fancy handwriting on his new birth certificate, the name different but somehow felt more like him than any of the other aliases he had used in the past. He let out a soft sound when he felt Hannibal’s hand on the small of his back, the touch light before the man pulled him close with an arm around his waist.

“Shannon,” Hannibal started quietly, his words and breath brushing gently against Will’s jaw, which made a shiver run down his spine. “Which comes from the River Shannon or Abha an tSionainn. It’s said to be named after the goddess Sionann, who’s father is-“

“Lir.” Will finished, a smile on his lips as Hannibal gave a small chuckle.

“Exactly.”

They stood quietly next to each other, both looking over the paperwork before Will reached out to pick up one of the delicate papers. He looked it over, a warm feeling blossoming in his chest like a flower after a long winter as he read over their marriage certificate. It was theirs; they were truly Han and Will LeRaham, the names are written out and bound in legal contract. He chewed on his bottom lip for a moment, the joy he felt at this union, feeling no less happy than his last wedding, but also more freeing. He was with the man who could see him, who loved him for what he was and wanted to see more of it, see that rabid beast inside him when Will let his mask crack.

“I have to say I’m a little surprised.” Will grinned when he heard Hannibal’s questioning sound and turned to look over his shoulder into those light brown eyes. “I thought for sure when Hannibal Lecter ever decided to get married, it would be the event of the century.”

“Well,” Hannibal chuckled, moving his arm from around Will to take his hand instead, shifting so they could be palm to palm and lace their fingers together. “I might not be able to have the wedding that I would have wished as a younger man, but now I have something so much more important.”

A soft kiss was pressed behind Will’s ear and he felt warmth spill throughout his body. “I have someone who can see me. All of me. A stunning individual who saw behind the cracks and chips on my facade; into the darkness that lurked and still wanted me.”

“Stunning?” Will asked with a coy smile, turning just slightly so he could run his nose along Hannibal’s cheek.

“Always,” Hannibal whispered. “And I would rather have that stunning brilliant being tied to me forever over anything else the world could offer.”

They had bought each other’s rings, Will determined to find something Hannibal would like even if the man assured him that whatever he bought, he would wear it with pride. They exchanged vows quietly in the lovely courtyard of the Museo de Historia Municipal in Trinidad. Moved away from the tourists, near one of the tall pillars where the setting sun’s golden light could not reach them, Will let out a choked sigh as the pocket warmed wood, bone and metal of his ring slid neatly onto his finger as Hannibal whispered his devotion. The deep dark color of the whiskey barrel wood made the two thin lines of gold and the soft white of antler in the middle almost glow. It felt so different from the one Molly gave him. This felt solid, unbreakable and real.

Will pulled Hannibal’s ring from his suit pocket, the black ceramic gleaming along with the authentic mineralised dinosaur fossil that had been cut and polished to a shining blue. He grinned when Hannibal’s smile trembled just the slightest, that ever collected mask slipping as Hannibal’s eyes glistened, but never shedding tears. He took Hannibal’s left hand in his, sliding the ring gently down that long slender finger and felt his heart stutter at the satisfying feeling that washed over him at seeing his ring on Hannibal’s hand. Hannibal was his, not that there had ever been any question, but now the man wore proof of it on his beautiful hand. The world would know this insane and gorgeous creature was his and no one else’s.

They decided to honeymoon in Northern Ireland, wanting to be near where they would settle down so it would not be so much work to travel into another country after. Will decided to buzz his curls off as well as shaving his beard, much to Hannibal’s displeasure, while Hannibal dyed his silvering hair a dishwater blond and accrued color changing contacts. The United Kingdom customs officers didn’t even give them a second glance as they accepted their passports and told them to keep going. They had boarded the dogs and Beatrice; the cat meowing so loudly for Hannibal that as they left, he could tell his  _ husband _ was upset even through Hannibal’s unattached demeanor. He carefully took Hannibal’s hand in his, ignoring the questioning look Hannibal sent him and squeezed the man’s hand.

“She’ll be fine.”

The very slightest downward twitch of Hannibal’s face made it all too apparent. “I wasn’t worried.”

“Okay.” Will gave a small nod, but still didn’t let go of Hannibal’s hand and smiled when he felt his husband squeeze back.

Will picked to stay along the Causeway Coast, beautiful scenery with cliffs and sea, and he could only laugh when Hannibal gave a small disgruntled hum at the idea of going near cliffs with Will. They picked one of the cottage suites at Galgorm Hotel, the seclusion from regular hotels appealing to Will while the luxury and full kitchen suited Hannibal. They spent a week there, cooking, going for walks, seeing the scenery, house hunting, planning for jobs they would look for and names they liked for children.

Also…

“F-fuck!” Will gasped, back arching up as his hands gripped the iron headboard tightly, the sharp burst of pleasure curled his toes as Hannibal thrust brutally into him again. Some days their love making was slow and sweet, kisses that expressed their love and gentle reverent touches that would make Will purr in delight. Other days, when they would let out their dark inner animals, it was nothing but teeth and nails and Will  _ loved _ it. He grinned wide, baring his own fangs, when Hannibal hissed, his rhythm faltered as Will dragged his blunt nails down Hannibal’s back roughly.

He let out a ragged moan when he felt those sharp uneven teeth sink into his neck, the pain intensifying every nerve ending in his body. He could feel the skin break, knowing Hannibal had made him bleed as the man continued the unrelenting pace, each thrust hitting exactly where Will needed. When Hannibal pulled away, red smeared across his lips, Will couldn’t help himself as he scrambled to grab a fistful of silver hair and yank Hannibal down to crush their mouths together.

The coppery taste in the kiss gave him another thrill. The taste of his blood between their mouths made Will ache in ways he couldn’t describe, gritting his teeth as he felt the oncoming rush of pleasure. He was so close!

“Mine.” He growled against Hannibal’s lips, tugging on the hair and loving the answering growl he got for it. “Mine.”

“Only yours,” Hannibal grunted and with one last thrust, Will was swallowed up by the waves, his voice crying out in satisfaction and bliss as his monster came with a broken groan inside him.

They would lay for hours in that bed, licking the marks they had left on the other as well as making new ones until it was absolutely necessary to move. They loved bathing together, either in the shower or the large clawfoot tub in the master bathroom. Will off-handedly requested that they have a large tub wherever they move. They perused available homes online, Will flat out refusing to raise a child in a high-end penthouse that Hannibal had found. He wanted an actual home, with a yard for the kid and dogs, somewhere with a garage instead of a parking space. For the first time ever, he missed his small home out in Wolf Trap.

Hannibal seemed to understand the expression on Will’s face, giving him a soft kiss on the forehead and quietly told Will that he would not stop looking until they found the perfect one. A day later, Hannibal placed his iPad into Will’s lap and told him to take a look.

Surrey Lane, Battersea, London SW11.

Will almost spat out his coffee at the number of bedrooms it had, along with its asking price. “Six bedrooms? Last I checked three people didn’t need three extra bedrooms.”

“What if we plan to have a second child? They would need their own rooms, especially if they were to be different sexes. They would need their own space.” Hannibal replied. “The remaining two bedrooms would be used as guest rooms in case we have someone stay over, or the children wish to have a friend over for the night.”

“Usually,” Will started slowly. “When kids have sleepovers, they tend to sleep in the same room.”

Hannibal took in a deep breath through his nose and let it out softly. “We would still need guest rooms.”

Will gave a disbelieving huff of a laugh. “You think I, the most antisocial person on the planet, is going to make friends with someone enough that I want them to stay? In my home?”

“Stranger things have happened, Mano meilė.”

Will couldn’t argue that. After all, they were a serial killer cannibal, and an ex-FBI agent turned serial killer cannibal married couple. God, they would be such a hit at all the parties Will would never attend. He pulled the tablet towards him with a sigh, looking over the house again with a frown.

Two stories.

Six bedrooms.

Five bathrooms.

A reception room.

Separate Coach House with an apartment on top.

Garden.

Discreet electric gates.

Large dining room with a hidden door under the sprawling large kitchen.

Will scrolled through the pictures, the large winding staircase case in the main hallway leading up to the second story reminded him of some old English storybook. The rooms were spacious and beautiful; the backyard was a decent size with large trees and hedges that made the house next door brick siding look whimsical instead of closed in. It wasn’t quite Hannibal’s interior design style, but that was something that could easily be changed, though Will kind of liked the cozy look the house had going. The more Will thought about it, the more the house grew on him and after a week of considering, he told Hannibal to put in an offer.

Their offer was accepted within the hour.

The whole move took around two months, along with getting Hannibal's belongings shipped to him by Chiyoh, who managed to save a few things for him.The dogs loved all the open space out in the back, and Beatrice loved all the small places she could wedge herself into and hide. Meanwhile, Hannibal got to work on giving the entire house the Lecter make-over and Will was honestly surprised when his husband included him in the decisions. As they went over colors, textiles, fabrics and furniture, Will felt a swell of happiness and pride as their home started to come together. However, there were a few things that Will didn’t quite understand.

“Can you tell me exactly how we are going to childproof this?” Will asked, frowning at the intricate and genuinely beautiful authentic Samurai armor that Hannibal had taken out of its large special box. “It must have been a pain for Chiyoh to get it from storage.”

Hannibal smiled proudly at the armor, running his hands lovingly over the shoulder armor as he set everything meticulously straight. Will pursed his lips and turned to look at the honestly haunting and intimidating helmet and mask. The helmet’s rusty brown metal with its blue and yellow accents was beautiful; even the large crest that still looked so very sharp even to this day was more impressive than anything. It was the mask that unnerved him; the open mouth with sharp teeth lining it, a strip of white fur running above it to give the appearance of facial hair with a small red stain on it. With it all together sitting properly, it looked as if some armored demon lay in wait in Hannibal’s study, at the ready with the old but still beautiful katana and wakizashi placed at its side.

“Where did you even get this authentic samurai armor?” He didn’t doubt it was real. It was Hannibal. Of course, it was real. “I thought that after the eighteen seventies, any existing armor was reclaimed by the families of the samurai or preserved for history’s sake.”

“It’s a family heirloom,” When Hannibal turned to him, his soft mouth quirked in a devilish smirk. “You don’t believe me.”

Will let out a soft chuckle. “Forgive my disbelief, I just never really thought of Lecter as a Japanese name.”

Hannibal’s smile softened, and Will let himself be pulled closer to his husband, closing his eyes when Hannibal pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. Hannibal continued along his temple, his cheek and then his jaw before pulling away. “I truly love that smart mouth of yours.”

Will grinned. “I’m sure you do.”

Hannibal gave him another soft kiss, this time on the mouth, a gentle chaste press before he was pulling away to look back at the armor with that far away fond look again. Will had seen that look a few times now; when talking about Hannibal’s family, the recipes he had learned when he was just a young man and when he spoke about first meeting Will. He watched as Hannibal reached out to rub the tips of his fingers around that sharp open mouth on the mask, the pointed metal pressing dangerously against the soft pad of Hannibal’s finger. 

“It belonged to my aunt Murasaki.” Hannibal said softly, the gentle tone carrying more emotion than how gently he was treating the armor. “My uncle met her on a trip to Kyoto, and they fell instantly in love.”

Will watched his husband, moving a little closer but not daring to touch him yet. “You’ve told me a little about her.”

Talking about Hannibal’s family had taken a bit of time, Hannibal offering memories and facts about his parents or any Lecter ancestor that Will asked about. There were two people, however, that Hannibal spoke very little about; Mischa and Lady Murasaki. The two women in his life had left the most significant impacts, and Will always made sure not to push too hard. Hannibal gave an agreeing hum, stepping back to admire the armor after he was satisfied with the arrangement. 

“Truly a masterpiece of a woman,” he murmured proudly as if he was seeing her instead of the armor. “Beautiful, intelligent, deadly, and had a kind heart.”

Will raised an eyebrow and cleared his throat gently, the relationship between Hannibal and his aunt always so vague that Will couldn’t help but wonder. The way Hannibal spoke of her was like a child who missed their guardian, but also of a young man who remembered their first love. Hannibal turned to him and gave him that hopelessly besotted look, reaching out to cup Will’s cheek and run his thumb gently over his cheekbone.

“Jealousy is a lovely color on you, Brangusis, but you have no reason to be.” Hannibal pulled Will gently close to himself, and Will went willingly. “My aunt is part of my past, someone that lives in my memory palace, not something I can hold or love in the flesh.”

Will gave an unimpressed noise. “So, my only edge is that I’m physically here?”

Hannibal laughed when he saw the smallest twitch of Will’s lips, smile ready to break out if he had to hold the disapproving look for much longer. He let Hannibal bring his face close, let his husband run his nose and lips gently over his cheek before giving a soft kiss to Will’s lips. They stayed like that for a few moments, eyes closed with their forehead pressed together, bathing in the calming feeling of being close to each other. Will’s eyes fluttered open, gazing into light amber eyes when he heard Hannibal start to speak. “I am sad to inform you that you are incorrect.”

“Oh?” Will whispered on a breath.

“Yes,” Hannibal breathed, placing another kiss against Will’s lips. “Your  _ edge _ , as you say, is that you own my entire being. My soul, my life, my past and my present all belong to you, and I would not have it any other way.”

Will felt warm at Hannibal’s word, his love for the man feeding him and making his heart clench from the amount of emotions he had for Hannibal. He let himself lean in to place a kiss at the corner of that perfect mouth, loving the soft purring sound Hannibal.

“Flatterer.”

“For you?” Hannibal moved his hand to tuck a stray curl that had started to grow back behind Will’s ear. “Always.”

After the house was complete and ready, they went about establishing their stories and jobs. Hannibal had this devil-given talent of being a chameleon at almost anything he did. Medicine, art, music, and cooking; it was almost unreal the skills his husband had, and Will wondered what Hannibal would pick this time.

Will wanted something he would enjoy that would be nothing close to what his old job had been. He had been considering a tackle shop, which wouldn’t make much sense due to being near the city when Hannibal brought up Will’s love for literature.

“An author?”

“I have confidence in both your knowledge of literature, your empathic abilities as well and your fascinating mind to bring truly wonderful stories to life.” Hannibal elaborated as he organized the vast spice cabinet for the third time since they had moved in. “We have enough money to last us, our future progeny, and any family they accumulate or create for centuries. Earning money isn’t a concern, and you could work from home, which I know is something you would very much enjoy.”

It was true, he had minored in literature, and the idea of being able to stay home when they had their kid as well as keeping away from other people sounded really great. In their spare time, while not getting their respective offices together, Will actually had an idea for a story, and he slowly started to build it in his mind. Hannibal, on the other hand, moved into something Will had not expected. 

Teaching.

With many documents and degrees that looked so authentic, Will almost forgot they weren’t, and a reference list that would fucking impress the Queen, Hannibal applied to be a professor at the Royal Academy of Music. Will didn’t want to doubt his husband’s ability to attain high goals, but he wasn’t exactly sure how the Royal Academy would look at a foreign professor who had just moved to the country not even half a year ago. Even if the man was far beyond qualified.

Which was why when Hannibal came home from his interview with the Academy three weeks later, Will just gave a loud groan at the smile Hannibal had on his lips. Only a very select few could ever say no to Hannibal Lecter, and the Royal Academy of Music was not one.

Professor Dominic Han LeRaham, come autumn term, would be one of the newest additions to the composition and contemporary music department. Will rolled his eyes so hard they might have fallen out when Hannibal told him that he was hoping to broaden his reach, and hoped to start teaching piano there as well. It was honestly shocking that they had their new home, new names, new jobs, and new lives within a year of deciding to have a child. Now was the time to start the next phase of their plan.

Finding an egg donor wasn’t the issue. They gave you a catalogue of women who had donated to read up on which traits or backgrounds they all had. It reminded Will of when he had researched the best affordable washer available when he had just moved out to Wolf Creek. He had the fleeting thought that at least Alana and Margot had known from the start who they needed to pick for their child, and he felt a bit of pain at never seeing them again. Hannibal was unsurprisingly picky, having a list of characteristics he preferred and those that he did not want.

After so many catalogs, they came to agree on donor K8294.

She was a young woman, skin color lightly tanned, eyes a nice hazel color, hair a lovely curled honey blonde, and a soft mouth.

No physical or mental health issues noted on her record.

She played football all throughout her life, finished her residency, and was now a doctor. She likes music and painting as well as dogs. She was perfect in every way, and they told the clinic so, which they then agreed to keep hold of the donor until Will and Hannibal were able to find a surrogate. The problem with finding a surrogate in England was that one could not do surrogacy for money, it was illegal, and anyone wanting to do it must do it without pay. Will and Hannibal had yet to make any trustworthy acquaintances, no one they could just ask to carry their child for nine whole months. That didn’t even include all the morning sickness, discomfort, doctors’ appointments and messy pain that came with pregnancy. It was a long and uncertain road, even as they grew closer to some people, it wasn’t a question someone brought up to another person at the dinner table. Will started to believe that this plan might not work out when Hannibal came home from work one day with an excited air about him.

Will raised an eyebrow when Hannibal went into the pantry after hanging his coat, bringing out of the tiniest wines Hannibal had selected to keep in their home. He watched as his husband expertly popped the cork, pouring the lovely red liquid into two of their finest crystal wine glasses before handing one to Will. Will took it with an uncertain look, lifting it to his nose so he could smell it before taking a small sip, humming in acceptance at the smoky sweet flavor.

“What’s the occasion?” He asked as Hannibal did the same with his drink, smile now on his face.

“Well, my love, if you must know,” Hannibal pulled Will closer, taking his glass from him and setting both glasses on the island counter before wrapping his arms around Will’s waist. He rested his forehead against Will’s and hummed softly. “I believe I have found us a surrogate.”

Her name was Martha Fink.

She was a lovely young girl, age twenty-four, smooth dark brown skin and eyes, with curly hair that defied gravity. She had recently graduated from the Royal Academy with the violin. Though she has only been to a few of Professor LeRaham’s lectures and classes, she liked him and thought he was brilliant. She had heard about their circumstances from her mentor, a colleague of Hannibal’s, who apparently when drinking, spilled work gossip, and now that she had to live on her own, Martha found herself in need of money.

“But we can’t pay her.” Will reminded his husband, who only smiled softly as he sliced the roast he had made for dinner.

“Yes, the law says we can not pay her for her services.” Hannibal agreed. “However, they say nothing about giving gifts.”

“Gifts, huh?” Will matched Hannibal’s smile.

“Yes, gifts. Very, very generous gifts.”

These gifts included paying her rent for nine months and money for any new clothes she might need for the pregnancy. All her dietary needs would be arranged by Hannibal himself to give her and the baby that would grow inside her the nutrients they would need. A car would be provided to get her to and from appointments with ease. 

Will laughed when Martha refused any car over seventeen thousand pounds, which put Hannibal’s idea of a luxury car off the market.

Soon it was time to collect their samples. They both contributed and let fate have its way after a very long talk about Will not wanting to put his own genetics into any kid. Hannibal almost begged him to change his mind. The first time they tried did not take, neither did the second, but the third time was always the charm, right?

The day was Saturday when the call came. Hannibal and Will were sitting outside in their backyard, enjoying the cool weather of early spring and eating lunch. They were both sipping a tart pinot grigio, relaxing quietly, when Hannibal suddenly spoke. “Have you heard of superfecundation?”

Will frowned slightly, his mind shifting through everything he knew before it settled on something he had learned far back in a biology class he had taken in college. “That’s what happens when two eggs are fertilized by two different sperm.”

Hannibal gave a small nod. “Resulting in twins with two separate fathers.”

Will blinked, unsure what Hannibal was getting at when it clicked, and he gave his husband an unamused frown. “Is that why you were so adamant about me contributing my genes as well?”

Hannibal gave a light shrug. “Whether it happens or not, I will be happy.”

Will sighed when he heard Hannibal’s phone ring, and his own buzz in his pocket. Both looked at the group text message at the same time as happiness welled up in their hearts.

There from Martha was a picture of a pregnancy test with a positive sign and the words “Finally got it!”


	2. From the Womb

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A huge huge thank you to the amazing [Dontbevain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dontbevain) for betaing!

Will started tapping his fingers immediately against his leg, his leg began to jiggle as they waited, and Hannibal carefully reached out to cover the tapping hand with his own. Hannibal couldn’t help but smile lightly and gave Will’s hand a reassuring squeeze, pleased when some of the tension left Will’s shoulders. He dipped his head closer to Will’s, letting his thumb run over his husband's knuckles as he pressed a chaste kiss to Will’s temple. “Are you excited to see?”

“I’m not nervous,” Will muttered roughly, though he didn’t pull away, which showed Hannibal’s affection wasn’t bothering him too much. “I’m _not_.”

“I didn’t say you were,” Hannibal answered back, glancing over at Martha, who tried to focus on her phone but couldn’t keep the amused smile from her face. 

They had to wait until Martha was at least twelve weeks before seeing a doctor for their first check up. Hannibal knew, as a doctor, how delicate the first twelve weeks of pregnancy were. He explained to Will that the bundle of cells would attach to the uterine wall and begin its transformation into a fetus, thus lowering the chances of miscarriage. Hannibal had thought this news would have been reassuring to Will, but it seemed to cause his husband to grow more anxious the closer the appointment came. Will had voiced his concerns; what would happen if she miscarried in those weeks? What if they got to the appointment and heard nothing during the ultrasound? All of which were legitimate but unlikely. This Will was far more erratic and prone to bursts of unsettled nerves compared to the one who wrestled with himself when he found out Margot Verger had become pregnant. If Hannibal were to look at it from a psychiatrist's point of view, which he never would towards Will again, he would say that this is how Will reacted to anxiety when he felt safe enough to show it.

Hannibal tried not to feel pride at that, but it was difficult. He finally had his brutal beast, this beautiful man who could see him so clearly that his heart ached when Will was gone from him for too long. He started to hum softly, the melody of Vivaldi’s The Four Seasons always seemed to help his boy relax, and sure enough, Hannibal could hear Will let out a long slow breath from his mouth. Will didn’t voice his thanks, too stubborn for that, but he shifted their hands so they could lace their fingers together. 

“Martha Fink?”

All three looked up at the nurse who had come through the door, Martha giving a soft ‘here’ before gathering her things and standing while Will and Hannibal followed suit. The nurse gave them a small smile before asking them to follow her, leading them through a winding hallway filled with doors until she seemed to pick one at random and opened it for them. Inside, Hannibal and Will moved to the corner as the nurse recorded Martha’s vitals before handing Martha a gown to change into. There was a thin sheet on the bed for privacy when the examination began.

“Gentlemen,” The nurse addressed them. “Would you like to stand in the hallway until she is ready?”

Hannibal’s polite 'Of course' was drowned out by sarcastic Martha’s 'Obviously' and Will’s desperate 'Oh God, yeah.'

Both Will and Hannibal shuffled out with the nurse trailing them, moving to stand by the door as the nurse quietly congratulated them with a friendly smile before leaving them to go about her job. They waited quietly, their hands still linked together until they heard Martha call them back in. She was seated on the plush table in her gown with the sheet spread out over her lap, an embarrassed smile on her face. She kicked her striped, socked feet against the table and laughed with an uneasy shrug. “I forgot to shave my legs.”

Hannibal huffed a soft laugh, ready to tell her that if their doctor were a professional, they wouldn’t give her legs a second look, but Will beat him to it with a grin. 

“Just shows you don’t like to conform to gender expectations. A truly modern woman.”

Martha threw her head back and let out a loud laugh. Will chuckled with her, and Hannibal couldn’t help but warm at how easily Will had shattered the awkward tension that had been in the room. They talked freely until the doctor knocked on the door and introduced herself, pulling the large ultrasound machine closer to the table with a glance at Hannibal and Will. 

“Alright, Martha, I’m going to need you to lay back and put your feet in the stirrups, then scoot down until your butt is on the edge of the table.” The Doctor smiled at Martha’s flushed cheeks and then turned that smile onto the two of them as both moved back so they would be behind Martha. When they were behind her and wouldn’t be able to see anything from that angle, Martha did as instructed and gulped when the doctor took her place in front of her spread legs. When everything was inserted and ready, the doctor turned the machine on and soon they saw a screen full of shapes that were all different shades of grey. 

Only because Hannibal knew what he was looking at he couldn’t help the pleased grin that spread across his face when he saw it.

“Alright,” The doctor started, smiling at Martha and then the two of them, then pointed at the screen to a small little medium grey blob. “That little roasted chicken looking shape? That’s your wee one.”

Hannibal almost winced at how tight Will’s grip on his hand had suddenly become as soon as the doctor had pointed the fetus out, turning to see an expression on Will’s face that made Hannibal flush slightly. The look was intense and focused, deep blue eyes taking in as much as they could with perfect pink lips pursed in concentration. His body was tense and still, and Hannibal knew precisely what all of this meant coming from his darling.

Will found something he decided was his.

“Wow,” Martha said softly, then laughed. “It really does look like a cooked chicken.”

“Be kind,” Hannibal said with an amused smile. “It’s only the size of a lime. Very few can look normal at that size.”

Will seemed to come out of his thoughts, turning to look at Hannibal with a grin. “What about brownies?”

Hannibal huffed. “Real things, Dearest. Brownies have the advantage of being fictional.”

“As far as you know.”

The doctor saved the two of them from any further discussion by asking if they were ready to hear the heartbeat and everyone went quiet as she flipped on the sound. There were small noises that Hannibal knew was just the womb before the fast rhythmic sound of a heartbeat filled the room. He heard Will take a deep breath, so enraptured by wonder to catch that something sounded off, and by the doctor’s slight frown, she thought so too.

The heartbeat was too fast.

“Give me a second.” The doctor said quietly, shifting the wand in Martha a little more, and Hannibal felt something cold grow in his stomach as the too quick heartbeat started to go almost uneven. “Ah, that’s what I thought.”

“What? What’s wrong?” Will asked quietly, and Hannibal had to reach out to take his hand because he wasn’t sure how Will would take the news that something was already wrong with their child. “Is the kid okay?”

“Oh, they are fine.” The doctor replied with a small grin. “Both of them are.”

“Are you bloody serious?” Martha cried, laying back against the bed with a groan. “Two? I’m going to look like a house!”

Hannibal swallowed back his dread, the relief making him let out a shaky breath before he could get his bearings again. He turned to look at Will, still staring at the screen. There, slightly visible behind the one little light grey blob, was another one hiding behind its sibling. He felt Will turn to press his face against Hannibal’s shoulder; a move Will used when he was overwhelmed. Hannibal brought a hand up to cover Will’s ear that wasn’t muffled by Hannibal’s coat, giving him a quiet place to sort out everything. It took him a short amount of time, but still long enough that Martha and the doctor gave them slightly worried looks. When Will pulled away, he had a watery smile and ran his hand over his face with a disbelieving groan.

“Well, fuck.” He laughed. “Guess we are going to have to go baby shopping again.”

The pregnancy went along as planned with doctor’s appointments, helping Martha with her income, especially when it started to become more challenging for her to stand for prolonged amounts of time with her violin, and making sure they had everything they needed twice over for when the day finally came. Hannibal had taken pleasure in cooking more food than he had initially planned for Martha’s three meals a day. Twins meant she needed more calories than if it had just been one. He made sure each meal had the proper amount of vitamins and nutrients, rich in fiber and iron as well as folic acid for the children’s brains to develop correctly. Between work, cooking meals for the three of them and getting the nursery ready for two babies, time seemed to fly. 

It was when, one afternoon that Hannibal received a text from Martha that made him pause, rereading the text over and over again before slipping it back in his pocket so he could get back to work. The text bothered him, it really shouldn’t have, but something like worry and irritation kept crawling up into his chest until his mood had darkened entirely by the time he arrived home. Hannibal slipped his shoes off at the door, hanging his coat up properly in the entryway closet before he made his way upstairs to where he knew he’d find Will in his office.

Hannibal always knocked, but this time his knuckles barely touched wood before he was opening the door to his husband’s study, finding Will sitting at his desk with his laptop open. Will looked up at him, his blue eyes looking bigger behind the round black frames of his new glasses and ignoring the joke Will had made earlier about looking like Harry Potter with the new glasses and his forehead scar.

(Hannibal still did not take jokes about that time in Italy well. He had not been thinking correctly, lost in love and obsession.)

“Hey, how was-“ Will frowned when Hannibal only unlocked his phone and opened his messages, laying the phone on the desk so Will could see the short message Maratha had sent.

_Hey Mr. LeRahm. You don’t have to make dinner for me this Friday. Going out with a few mates so you don’t have to worry._

“I’m not sure what I’m supposed to be seeing here.” Will started, glancing up at Hannibal with a crease between his brow. “Is it bad that she’s going out?”

Hannibal licked his lips, his irritation growing again when Will obviously did not see what was wrong with this, but he’d just have to make him see. He took his phone back, sliding it into his pocket as he moved across the room to sit in the plush leather wing back chair that Will kept in his office. Hannibal crossed his leg over the other and placed his laced hands in his lap, taking a calming breath through his nose because being anything but calm would make his worries seem unreasonable. Then he turned his training and true profession on, looking at Will with the old mask that he kept during his patients’ sessions.

“Martha is twenty-four years old. Not incredibly young, but still young enough where engaging with her friends for a night could lead to certain things.” Hannibal paused for effect, watching as Will’s brow furrowed slightly. “Things like drinking, smoking and possibly include sexual intercourse with a young man.”

“Wait,” Will waved his hand in the air. “Are you saying you're worried Martha will drink or smoke?”

“Some people still believe the advice that a little alcohol during pregnancy does not harm, but that is incorrect,” Hannibal stated plainly. “I am also aware that Martha does not smoke, but that knowledge does not include her friends. Secondhand smoke is as bad or worse when it comes to a developing fetus.”

Will pursed his lips, a thoughtful expression on his face before he stood up and moved over to Hannibal’s chair. Hannibal gave a small frown when Will pushed his leg gently, forcing him to uncross his legs, and sat in Hannibal’s lap with his legs bracketing Hannibal’s hips. He let his eyes flutter shut when those wonderful calloused hands moved up and into his hair, breaking the hold of his mousse as Will’s short blunt nails scratched lightly over his scalp. His hands moved to Will’s hips, thumbs finding the belt loops of Will’s slacks and hooking them through the small pieces of fabric as he let out a pleasured hum at the feeling. His skin broke out in goosebumps when Will pressed his lips against his, fingers never stopping their movement, and Hannibal opened his mouth when he felt Will’s tongue against his lips.

They stayed like that for a while, lazy kisses and tongues twining, Hannibal’s arms around Will while Will ran his fingers through his hair.

When Will pulled away for a breath, Hannibal sighed as his mind slowly shifted back to what he had been thinking, which showed what an effect Will had on him.

“You’re trying to distract me.” He muttered quietly.

Will gave him a bright smile, those perfectly straight and white teeth with the slightly large canines, and Hannibal again felt himself slipping. He loved this beautiful man. Even if his love was twisted, dark and obsessive, he would wrap his lovely boy into it until Will drowned. He kept his eyes open against his heart’s wishes as Will leaned in to press a kiss to his forehead.

“I’m not trying to distract you.”

“Oh?” The tone was flat and unbelieving.

“Yes,” Will said softly, that mischievous look on his face that Hannibal likened to Pan, but his beauty was far more that of Daphnis. “I seem to find myself endeared to this worried side of you. It’s something I haven’t seen much of.”

Hannibal only narrowed his eyes the slightest. “You have seen me worried.”

Will chuckled quietly, mostly just warm air against Hannibal’s lips, the hands in his hair giving another gentle scratch. “Rarely. Even in a crisis, you are calm and collected. I think the only time I’ve seen you break that mask was when…”

They both knew the time Will was talking about, back in Russia, where someone had recognized the scar on Will’s cheek and forehead from reports overseas. The man took a giant risk by going after Will himself instead of contacting law enforcement. It was a quick struggle in their apartment that saw to the end of that man’s life, but also a knife in Will’s gut. Hannibal had never worked so quickly in his entire life, quickly checking for damaged organs before getting his suture kit out. They’d had no time to give Will anything to bite down on, so Hannibal had told him to stay quiet and went to work.

That day and the two weeks that followed were the days Hannibal thought he would lose his beloved. After everything they had gone through…

“Come back to me, Hannibal.” 

Amber eyes flickered up to meet bright blue, Will’s hands now cupping his face and Hannibal turned his head so he could kiss Will’s palm. He needed to stop getting caught up in his memory palace, especially stuck in the rooms he no longer wished to think back on.

“I’m here, Mano meilė.”

Will pressed kisses to Hannibal’s face before Hannibal surged forward to press a deep kiss to his husband’s lips, enjoying the muffled whine Will let out. When they broke apart, both were breathless and flushed. Will rolled his hips against Hannibal, and Hannibal let out a soft growl. “We need to finish our conversation, you gorgeous thing.”

Will smirked, nodding but refusing to stop his hips movements, groaning when Hannibal’s hands moved from his hips to dig strong fingers into the tight muscles of his backside.

“Fine.” Another grind and Hannibal’s nostrils flared at the smell of Will’s arousal mixing perfectly with his own. “You picked Martha for a reason and not because she was our only option.” A shuddering breath. “She’s smart, responsible and trustworthy. We have nothing to worry about…”

Hannibal shuddered when Will leaned down to give a light bite to the side of his neck. “That is... unless you were wrong.”

Hannibal looked up at Will, lips turning down into a frown as lust, worry and irritation now mixed hotly in his gut as he tightened his hands on Will. Will made a soft pleased sound, knowing he had dug a wedge in between Hannibal’s worry and pride, that awful, wonderful creature. “I’m never truly wrong.”

Will gave a dismissive snort, and that was it.

They fucked on Will’s desk until both of their throats were raw from the amount of pleasured shouts and screams that had come from them. The mail that Will had brought in now sat stained beyond repair, and Hannibal grinned as Will laughed, both still shaking from aftershocks.

Time moved on. Sometimes so slow that Hannibal wondered if the sands of time had clogged up, only letting one small grain out at a time. At other times it seemed that he could not catch up. Spring came and passed with a blink, and soon the Royal Academy had let out for the summer aside from a few select courses and lessons. Summer time in England was tolerable. Hannibal was glad to have a chance to pull out his summer wardrobe without having to worry about overheating due to the softer warmth than in the United States or Southern Europe or even their lovely little old home in Cuba with its terracotta roof and white plastered walls. He especially enjoyed the way Will dressed in the summer, light linen pants or knee length shorts, all in colors Hannibal picked paired with loose button-downs or even a tasteful t-shirt that Hannibal had approved of for when he went out.

And for when he stayed in…

Hannibal smiled as Will stretched out beside him, curls a mess and body as bare as it had been when he was born, heavy from sleep. After so many years, Hannibal liked to think that Will Graham could no longer surprise him, but he was delighted and besotted every single time his husband still was able to., Will had surprised him by taking his newfound role and job so seriously.

Will had stayed up until the very early hours of the morning, finishing up the eighteenth chapter of the book he had suddenly been inspired to write. He would not let Hannibal see it, not until it was done, piquing Hannibal’s curiosity. So, because Will had been working hard, Hannibal let him sleep in while he ate and finished up a few things. It had gone past noon when Hannibal finally decided he needed to check on the man and could not resist the urge of laying down beside his beautiful boy.

Two years after the fall, Hannibal noticed a sort of need and ache to be beside Will whenever he could. They did not have to be doing anything of importance or even be doing anything together, Hannibal just felt more at ease when Will was in his vicinity, and he got the feeling it was the same for Will.

This is how Hannibal found himself, at two in the afternoon, back in his sleep pants, in the bed with Will’s sleeping form tucked up against his side while he scrolled through his tablet. He smiled and set his tablet aside on the nightstand when Will started to rouse from his sleep, his beautiful body littered with scars that made Hannibal want to worship him even more. Sleep fogged teal eyes blinked up at him with a frown before it melted into a smile.

“You let me sleep in?” Will’s voice was rough, sending a small thrill of arousal down to Hannibal’s gut. “How sweet of you.”

Hannibal hummed in agreement and leaned down to brush a kiss against those curls. “I am always sweet to you, Brangusis.”

Even the snort Will let out was endearing. “Unless I do the dishes wrong, use the wrong knife for cutting or try to do your laundry.”

Hannibal sighed, rolling his eyes heavenward as if dealing with Will’s complaints was far too much before he rolled on top of Will, smiling when his husband let out a yelp and half heartedly tried to push him off. Hannibal pinned him with ease, though Will might be younger, Hannibal still had the finely trained body of a killer. He pressed Will down to the sheets with his weight and grinned at the huff Will let out.

“Our china can not be washed in the dishwasher.” He placed a kiss on Will’s neck as he spoke, loving the jerk of Will’s body at each press of lips to the soft skin. “A cleaver is not for cutting sandwiches.” Kiss met with a whimper. “And you know that I only dry clean my clothes.”

Will laughed softly. “Even your underwear?”

Hannibal gave a play growl. “Especially my underwear.”

He leaned down to capture Will’s mouth in his, humming in appreciation when Will immediately turned it filthy. They pressed against each other tightly, Hannibal groaning as he ground his silk covered cock down against the bare skin of Will’s hip, and when Will let out a gasp, arching his back for more friction, Hannibal was all too willing to comply.

They had both started to pant when suddenly Will’s body seized up, and the loud yelp he let out was not one of pleasure but pain. Hannibal pulled away a bit to look down at his husband with a frown, a little pain something they both liked, but he had not done anything to-

“Your fucking cat!”

Hannibal blinked before turning to look over his shoulder to see his lovely Beatrice doing her best to knead into one of Will’s calves. He would have thought it very precious if Will wasn’t still hissing and gritting his teeth every time she sank her claws in a little too much. Hannibal sat up, making a soft psst sound at her, which she very quickly responded to. He smiled as she bumped her head against his arm, and he gave her the affection she deserved, running his hand over her head and down her sleek fit.

“Your cat is a demon.”

Hannibal smiled at the absolute venom in Will’s voice and turned to give his husband a fond look. “She did not even draw blood. You’ve been through worse. Stop being dramatic.”

“You’re calling _me_ dramatic? Pot and kettle, Hannibal.”

Hannibal raised an eyebrow before moving his attention back to Beatrice, who had started to rub her head insistently against his hand for more attention. He heard Will grumble, smiling down at his lovely girl as Will got up from the bed, wonderfully bare and still slightly hard, to go over to their chest of drawers to retrieve a pair of underwear. Hannibal made a disapproving sound when Will slid them on, doing his best not to smile when his husband glared over at him as he pulled pants out from another drawer.

“Don’t be too cross with us, my love.” Hannibal purred, not sure which side of Will he wanted; bad and good both had their pleasurable perks. “I let your dogs out while you slept, and Beatrice did not scratch one of them while they ate, even when a few went too close.”

“Did Beatrice not scratch, or did you made sure she didn’t?”

Hannibal pulled himself straight and raised his chin slightly, the look he would always use to make people feel lower than him. It worked on so many, but not Will. No, never Will. Instead, Hannibal turned to look at a spot on the comforter, knowing that Will’s gaze was the only thing that could make his perfect person mask slip.

“I’m not sure I understand the difference.”

“You’re unbelievable.” The words were sighed, but Hannibal could hear the warm affection in his tone, and his chest felt tight with love. “What time is Martha’s appointment again?”

“Five. We scheduled the latest one so Martha would have time to finish her performance and make it to the office in time.” Hannibal replied, watching as Will nodded and continued to get dressed. “No shower?”

“I showered last night.”

Hannibal grinned, loving Will’s habit of showering in the evening because by then, his body had gone through the day, and his scent was so strong before he washed everything away with the soaps and shampoos Hannibal had bought. Hannibal could not wait for tonight. He had one of the albariño chilling in the fridge, along with the oysters he had ready for oysters Rockefeller and tonight, he would make sure all animals in the house were distracted while the bedroom door remained closed.

“Wonderful.” He purred.

  
  
  
  


Hannibal had been sure he would handle the news well. He’d seen multiple ultrasounds of unborn babies, and yes, there was a drastic change from seeing a random unborn child to seeing your very own growing and kicking. But Hannibal had not expected this heart wrenching emotion when they had found the first one and then the second. He had planned to come home with Will, pictures in hand, and make a lovely meal for the both of them in celebration no matter what the sex of their two little ones. Instead, he stood with Will looking down at the small photos of their children, both stunned, silent with the awe of seeing something they had created. 

Hannibal traced his finger along the outline of one of his children’s skulls. The little girl’s skull. _His_ little girl’s head.

She was so little compared to her brother, but they both had passed the exam with flying colors. They were going to have two healthy babies, one boy and one girl. He watched as Will picked up one of the pictures of their boy, his little fist near his mouth. The technician had said he was sucking his thumb or at least trying to.

“Were you born big?”

The question caught Hannibal off guard slightly, and he tried to remember back to the stories his mother had told about his birth or a memory of seeing his birth records. It was hazy, mementos diluted from pain and time, but he could remember one picture he had seen before everything had happened. Hannibal had been around four months, laying in one of the lavish silk pillows his mother adored with his white frilled gown and bonnet while she sat beside him. The details of her face were blurry, but he knew she looked gorgeous. His own face still blotchy and a bit red, but he could remember his cheeks.

His cheeks had been something to rival any chipmunk on the hunt during the fall to stock up for winter.

Mischa had also been a plump child.

“I believe so,” Hannibal replied softly, leaning to the side to give Will’s temple a soft kiss. “Wondering if our children have two biological fathers?”

Will gave a quiet laugh and shook his head. “No, It’s doesn’t matter if it’s your DNA or mine running through them. They are ours.”

Hannibal smiled, the warmth that had filled his body from seeing their children only growing as he leaned his head against Will’s. “And you? Were you small like our little empress?”

Will let out a breath through his nose, almost a soft snort. “I have no idea. I was born premature, so I have no idea what I would have weighed if I’d come out full term.”

“How early?” Hannibal breathed, loving to hear anything about Will, hungry for every detail of the man who had taken his heart.

“Six weeks, so I guess around thirty-four weeks?” Will gave a small shrug. “Something about my mom where she kept bleeding, so they had to induce. Came out a whopping four pounds and a few ounces.”

“Very little,” Hannibal whispered, the sudden urge to see Will so delicate and small, his fierce beast pushing to survive even right out of the womb. “And yet, look at you now.”

Will gave a quiet hum of acknowledgment, but it was weak, and Hannibal frowned as he pulled away a bit so he could look at Will properly. Will continued to stare at their children’s pictures, particularly the girl’s, once he had placed the boy’s picture back on the counter. “Tell me what you are thinking, Will.”

Will was quiet for a long moment, his teeth digging into his plush pink bottom lip before turning his wide blue-green eyes up towards him. Hannibal was not as surprised as he should be when he saw worry lurking in that gaze along with the frown between Will’s eyes.

“What if they take after me like that?” Will whispered, taking a deep breath in through his nose and pushing it out his mouth. “I know it makes no sense, but twins are usually premature anyway, and if my genes somehow cause them to- I don’t know if I could take that.”

Hannibal let out a soft sound, moving to cup Will’s face with both of his hands, letting his thumb trace one of those beautiful cheekbones as he pressed a kiss to Will’s brow. “We had the genetic tests, the egg donor, us and even Martha. Nothing came up.”

The genetics testing had been more for Hannibal than anyone else; while Will had more of the mental issues to screen for, it was Hannibal’s genes they needed to pick through. He loathed to admit it, but Lithuanian nobility had been all too keen on inner-marrying, his grandfather and grandmother being second cousins. Hannibal had been lucky that his mother had come from a family with barely any relation to the Lecter name. A few traits had shown up on his test, but nothing concerning when mixed with their donor’s genetics.

“I know.” Will sighed, nuzzling into Hannibal’s touch for a moment. “It’s just...things are going so well. For us, at least for me, I feel like they are going too well.”

Hannibal moved one of his hands to push a few straw curls from Will’s head; the white line of scar tissue along his forehead made Hannibal ache. Neither of their lives had been easy, both filled with pain and anger, and it only grew worse one Hannibal had betrayed Will and then realized what his feelings were, only to be betrayed in turn by Will. But now…

Now they had the life they had wished for, a life that Hannibal never thought possible, and he wouldn’t let anyone take that from him or Will.

“They will be fine, Mano meilė,” Hannibal whispered before pressing a soft kiss to Will’s lips. “They have two fathers who will stop at nothing to make sure of it.”

Will smiled at that, moving to wrap his arms around Hannibal’s neck and pushing up on his toes to press his mouth against Hannibal’s with such a soft happy sigh that Hannibal immediately wrapped his arms around him and kissed back.

  
  
  
  


When Hannibal had appeared in his house, the man had not seemed scared, more irritated as he reached for a baseball bat that had been propped up against a few milk crates that apparently passed as a coffee table. Simon Breaman, thirty-one years old, a debt of at least eighty thousand pounds and a prominent member of a human trafficking ring. Honestly, with Will’s detective skills and his empathy, it had been pathetically easy to find this man. When Breaman swung at Hannibal, he had easily moved out of the way. This dance of predator versus prey always was so enjoyable to him. 

Breaman swung again, this time aiming for Hannibal’s head, and Hannibal let it almost graze him just so he could hear the low growl that came from the dark corner of the room. Breaman stopped for a moment to look, but a moment was all Will needed, moving almost inhumanly fast until he was face to face with Breaman.

Hannibal watched, enraptured as Will stabbed the man in the upper thigh with the beautifully sharp tantō knife Hannibal had given him for their second anniversary. The strike had been perfect, Will pulling the knife out so that the femoral artery had no blockage and their victim quickly started to bleed out. Breaman tried to grab at Will, his hands slippery with his blood against the plastic of Will’s murder suit, and Hannibal quickly stepped in when he saw one bloody hand move to grab a handful of Will’s hair. He took the man’s wrist in a crushing grip before his filthy hands could even graze one of those perfect curls.

He clicked his tongue in a disapproving sound. “That won’t do.”

He tightened his grip, grinning at the absolute look of lust Will sent him as the man cried out in pain. He could feel the way the man’s body slowly started to sag, the loss of blood taking its toll, and when Will stepped away, he let Breaman’s arm go so the pig fell to the floor with a wet sound. They both watched as blood quickly pooled around the body, the air thick with the metallic scent and then Will was on him. Their suits slid against each other, the covering of blood making it all that more enjoyable as it made the way Will’s hips rutted against his frictionless and easy. He whimpered as Will forced his back against one of the dirty walls, the growl deep in Will’s throat causing his breath to hitch in his throat.

Gods, his wolf in lambs wool was so glorious, and Hannibal opened up to him when Will took his mouth in a brutal kiss. Teeth clashed, and it was painful in the most exquisite way, Will pinning Hannibal to the wall with his body, just the feel of him making Hannibal gasp into their kiss. He could taste blood and immediately knew he had cut Will’s lip with one of his teeth, Will pulling back just enough for Hannibal to see his mouth now a deadly shade of red.

“Be careful, love.” He whispered, his heart beating so fast at the image of Will drenched in blood. “Must not leave any evidence behind.”

“You’re the one who bit me,” Will growled, pushing his hips against Hannibal’s roughly and causing Hannibal to let out a helpless groan. Hannibal moved to cup Will’s head with both hands, palms cradling the back of his skull nicely as he leaned in as much as Will would let him.

“Then let me help you clean it up.”

He started to lap gently at Will’s lips, feeling the way a shudder went through his husband’s body and the gentle touch when their hips were still rubbing against each other roughly. He felt his skin start to buzz, the pleasure growing more and more in his gut until his body practically begged to be released from this wonderful torture. After he had finished licking the blood away from that sinful cupid bow mouth, he then pulled Will’s head in further, and when that pale stretch of Will’s neck was within reach, Hannibal bit down ruthlessly.

Will let out a scream, hips jerking once, then twice before his body started to shake. While Will was lost in his pleasure, Hannibal took care of his own by grabbing Will’s hips with both of his hands and forcing his husband’s hips roughly against his and holding Will there while he ground against him. He could see the slight look of pain that passed Will’s face, overly sensitive and the edge becoming too much, but the groan Will let out dashed any worry Hannibal had and continued to move as he felt his orgasm approaching.

“F-fuck, Hannibal.” Hannibal squeezed his eyes closed at Will’s absolutely wrecked voice, almost losing himself from the sound of it alone. “You’re so beautiful.”

Hannibal gasped as liquid heat started to pool in his gut, and he cried out when Will reached out to take his face in his hands. Amber meeting sea blue and the words on Will’s lips had Hannibal spiraling out of any control he’d ever pushed his body to obey.

“I love you.”

With a hoarse shout, as the pleasure rose over him and plunged him into the sea of ecstasy, Hannibal came. He shook against Will, his dear love holding him up against the wall as he rode out the aftershocks. Hannibal whimpered when Will pressed his lips against Hannibal’s, the scab starting to form on Will’s lip rough, and it thrilled Hannibal that he had put that there and Will had let him.

Consensual scars from each other held so much more meaning. 

They both slumped together, bodies lax and loose from their pleasure, and they stayed like that for a moment. Will’s head resting against Hannibal’s chest and Hannibal’s nose nuzzling into the silky curls, so much like when Will had pulled them both off the cliff. After a moment, Hannibal shifted; his cum started to cool and become uncomfortable. The blood was beginning to dry and crack on their suits.

“I think it’s time we get our canvas in the van and on ice, and we should change,” Hannibal said softly, almost not wanting to disturb this beautiful moment, and he hummed when Will let out a quiet laugh.

“Yeah, you’re right.”

Hannibal gave him one last deep soul aching kiss before they started to clean up.

“I feel like a whale,” Martha grumbled as she picked at her spinach, feta and bacon omelette Hannibal had made for her.

Knowing that she craved meat made Hannibal feel a silly sense of happiness, the science behind the children craving meat was unfounded, but it did mean they would know the taste of meat right from the womb. After all, the foods the mother ate changed the taste of the amniotic fluid, and if she ate meat...well then. A man could hope.

Not that he had ever been feeding her anything that was not truly an animal.

“Well, you look marvelous,” Hannibal replied, ignoring the disbelieving look she sent him because he was not lying to make her feel better. Martha carried well physically, especially considering she had two inside instead of one. She had only gained a small amount anywhere besides her stomach. Her face was a bit rounder, but it added something soft and charming to her fea. Her ankles and fingers had not swelled much either, so really, all one could tell that she was pregnant was the obscenely large stomach where his two children rested.

“It does not matter if I look _marvelous_ ,” her imitating his accent would have been very rude if he had not found it so amusing. “When I feel so uncomfortable. I’m sorry, but your children are the most annoying things in the world at three in the morning, and suddenly one of them wants to have a dance party, and the other gets upset and tries to roll over.”

Hannibal pursed his lips together slightly in an attempt to dim the large happy smile he wanted to share at the small bits of information he was hearing about his children’s personalities. It seemed like one of his children was a bit wild, and his mind fondly wandered to the image of Will as he had killed their latest victim, Ms. Cosgrove. The way he had savagely attacked her, almost forgetting that they needed to be careful as he grabbed her neck and twisted with such force and violence that Hannibal had the slight thought that Will had nearly torn it off.

The memory had made him feel warm.

Ms. Cosgrove was one of the most influential women in London’s high society. Starting trends, judging who deserved to be in the circle of the elite along with her and making sure those who she did not care for were never allowed in. She had already disliked them for being married as two men, and the fact that Will was American just ruffled her feathers even more, but when she had learned Hannibal was from Lithuania, she had become venomous.

She made passive aggressive comments on Lithuania’s Soviet ruled past, how she was surprised that Hannibal was so cultured, well-read and had money coming from one of those poor Baltic countries. Hannibal remained polite through it all, knowing that he was better than this pig and none of her words mattered, but Will had been seething. Then, when she had brought up Lithuania’s alcohol problem and eyed the glass of wine in Hannibal’s hand, Hannibal had to stop his husband from almost spitting in her face with rage.

Will with violence in his eyes always made Hannibal’s breath catch.

That night it had taken soft words of love, promises of revenge and rough fucking for Will to calm down enough to not stalk and kill her that night.

It was such a happy memory that Hannibal kept it in a room he often frequented in his mind palace.

“Well,” Hannibal said, snapping out of his thoughts to turn a friendly smile toward her. “I apologize on behalf of my children and ask that you put up with them for only two more months.”

Martha huffed a small laugh and turned back to her food, cutting the omelette up into pieces instead of taking a bite at a time, and though it wasn’t proper etiquette, he did not seem to mind when it came to Martha. After all, for the early part of their relationship before all the betrayals, he had looked over the way Will would eat at the table. Elbows everywhere, talking with his mouth full, it was honestly such a cosmic joke that Hannibal would have fallen in love with the very last person he had suspected.

He gave her a moment to take a few bites before speaking again. “How are you feeling, by the way?”

Martha gave him a confused frown. “I thought I just told you? I feel like a whale.”

Hannibal smiled and shook his head gently. “No, no. I mean, how are you feeling emotionally or mentally? I like hearing that my children are doing well, but I’d also like to make sure that you are alright. After all, pregnancy can have an enormous strain on a woman and they are not even yours.”

Martha blinked, seeming surprised by this sudden turn of conversation, and Hannibal wondered if maybe it would have been better to bring it up earlier. However, he had been rather busy getting everything ready along with work, his hobbies and Will. Well, late was better than never, as some might say, and he crossed his leg over the other, lacing his fingers together and laying them on his lap. “Must make sure that brilliant musical mind does not suffer for doing a favor.”

At that, Martha laughed. “You sound like a psychologist or something.”

Hannibal tilted his head to the side, an amused smile coming to his lips. “Oh, do I?”

Martha shook her head, a grin on her face as she took another bite before it turned thoughtful. “I think I’m doing alright. I mean, there are some nights where I can’t sleep because I’m just uncomfortable, so that can be a little hard the next day.” 

She pushed her cut up omelette around her plate, a small frown forming on her face. Hannibal watched as she shifted in her seat, her eyes posture and expression suddenly guarded, and he wondered what it was she was trying to hide. He did not dare reach out to take her hand. They did not have a relationship where touch would not be a comfort, unlike Will and her. Instead, he gave a soft clearing of his throat, making his face look more open and soft before speaking.

“You do not have to tell me anything, Martha. Your thoughts are yours, and you get to decide who you share them with.” He gave a small smile to her when she looked up, wavering trust and also worry clear on her face. “Just know there is nothing you could say that would change how I think of you.”

She was quiet, eyes moving from the entrance to the dining room a few times before sighing and looking up at him. “When is Fred supposed to come home?”

Hannibal let out a soft hum, glancing at the large grandfather clock, the same one that had been in his childhood home that Will had carefully shipped here and repaired, and saw that they had a good thirty or so minutes before Will was due back. “We have time if you would like to talk. Is this something you do not wish for him to hear?”

He wondered what it could be that she was so worried about Will knowing, and he kept still as he waited for her to continue. She gave a small sigh before leaning back against the chair, hands moving to rest on the large swell of her stomach. “You know how surrogacy is supposed to be really thought through before it happens? Mainly because the surrogate can become attached to the kids they are carrying? Like it’s this bond that can be hard for her to break because she grew them in her body and carried them, so it can be hard to let them go?”

Hannibal remained easy and open, but inside he felt himself become like stone, seeing her hand on her stomach and suddenly calculating how long he would have to wait before he could perform a cesarean. He knew that was a normal reaction for every mammal; something threatening to take his children would obviously result in his need to protect, so he felt no guilt even though he did like Martha. “Yes, I’m aware of it. It is perfectly normal to feel that way if you are having a feeling of attachment.”

Martha bit her bottom lip, still looking nervous and Hannibal finally moved to lean forward. “Martha, if you feel-“

“I don’t care about them.” 

Both seemed to be stunned by this confession, and just for a split second, Hannibal let the shock show on his face before Martha was flapping her hands in front of her in a panicked sort of way. “I’m not saying I don’t care about them. That was a bad choice of words. I just meant I don’t feel this attachment that I want to keep them? Does that make sense?”

Hannibal gave a slow nod. “You have no feelings toward them one way or another.”

She looked a little frustrated at his explanation. “It’s not that I have _no_ feelings. I’m not some kind of monster, Dom.”

Hannibal held his hands up a little in a show of quiet defense. “I in no way meant that, and I apologize if that was how it came across.”

She kept her frown for a moment before sighing, shoulders slumping and body seeming to deflate as she sat back against her chair again. “I care about them. I care that they are healthy and that they get everything they need. I don’t want anything to happen to them and not only because I’m getting paid to have them.” She chewed on the inside of her cheek for a second before continuing. “I care, but I’m just so glad I won’t be keeping them. I don’t want them once they are out, and I don’t even know if I want to look at them once they are out.”

Hannibal pursed his lips a little. “And you think this is something to be guilty about?”

For the first time since he’d known her, Martha looked defeated and guilty. This idea must have been weighing on her heavily. “I don’t know. Isn’t it bad that I don’t feel anything for them? Doesn’t it bother you that the person carrying your children has no real good or bad feelings about them? That I don’t love them?” 

Hannibal had never cared if Martha had any feelings whatsoever about his children. As long as she did her part and made sure not to risk their health in any way, he didn’t think it was important, but the way she had been nervous about Will knowing made Hannibal wonder if maybe it would bother his husband. Will and his empathy would surely have picked up on her feelings and thoughts by now, and Hannibal would have noticed if Will was feeling uneasy about their surrogate. He rolled his shoulders a bit and uncrossed his legs, giving her what he knew was a reassuring smile that usually had set all his patients in the past at ease.

“I have no issue with you not being attached. In fact, I think it will be easier and better for you once they are born.” He lifted one of his shoulders in a graceful shrug. “Unless you wanted to see them and-“

“No,” Martha interrupted with a flat but firm tone. “I don’t want- I don’t want to be in their lives. I don’t really want to play the strange lady who birthed them and hung around. I’d rather just leave after.”

He watched as she bit her lip, still looking guilty, and he sighed. “I know Fred does not have an issue with this either.”

For a second, she looked at him so hopefully before she glanced down. “You’re sure? I want a clean break, but I don’t want to end it on bad terms.”

At this, he did reach over to tap at one of her hands, the smell of shea butter coming to him, explaining why her skin was so soft. He smiled and took his hand away when she looked up at him. “Trust me. He would prefer you happy and comfortable than miserable and with us.”

The smile that made its way across Martha’s face was almost blinding. Filled with such happiness and relief that Hannibal could not help but reach over again and tap his pinkie finger against hers. They both looked up when they heard the front door open and close loudly, and Hannibal gave a soft laugh when Martha did as Will yelled that he was home.

  
  


When the day finally came, it was a cold day in October, and Hannibal had been at school eating his prepared lunch when his phone started to ring. When Will’s name flashed up on the screen, Hannibal knew something was happening because Will only called while he was at work if there was trouble or an emergency. He set down his fork, wiped his hands with a napkin and picked up his phone. Will only said two words to him, and for a moment, he was back in the time when he had received a call from Will where he only uttered two words…

_They know._

“It’s time.” 

Will’s voice sounded anxious through the receiver, and the memory fell away, replacing long buried grief and heartbreak with such joy he thought he might yell.

“I’m on my way, Mylimasis.”

Everything seemed to happen in a blur after he parked his car in the hospital car park. He had not remembered making his way to the front desk and explaining himself, nor did he remember finding the birthing room where Martha was holding herself very still as Will counted. They were there for hours, but everything seemed to go too quickly, and Hannibal felt, for the first time since Will, unsure of what he needed to do.

There was nothing to do.

Just sit. Just wait.

When the epidural came, which Martha had demanded before they even signed any agreement, Will had to go to the other side of the room when they started to insert the needle, but Hannibal watched to make sure the anesthesiologist made no mistakes. The man did a well enough job, and he sat with Will on the small uncomfortable couch while Martha napped now that she was numb from the waist down. When the pushing started, everything seemed to speed up in a mess of yelling, encouraging words and very soon, the soft first cry of their firstborn broke through to Hannibal.

The nurses quickly took the baby to the table to check over everything, and Will nodded to Hannibal, giving him the order to go and make sure their first one was okay. Hannibal did as he was told, though he was going to anyway, and moved over towards the small counter and watched as they weighed and measured the little screaming thing.

Their limbs were stiff, unused to being in such an open area, but still moved wildly, and Hannibal couldn’t help the large loving grin that moved onto his face when they wrapped the small red thing in a blanket and handed it to him gently.

“Congratulations, Dad. A healthy little girl.”

Objectively, Hannibal knew it was a newborn’s genetic survival that made them liken themselves to their fathers so they would not be eaten. Almost all newborns looked virtually identical, only showing varying differences once they were a few weeks old, and all of them looked like small wrinkled monkeys. But, that did not stop the way Hannibal felt ready to weep when he saw her gorgeous little face soften when he started to speak to her, holding her close to him as he began to rock her gently. She was very pink but had a slight yellow tint, which Hannibal knew meant she was jaundice, but that was nothing a healthy appetite could not fix. She had yet to open her eyes for him, but she had a thick tuft of deep dark hair on top of her head along with some around the back. Hannibal suddenly felt this undying love at the thought that this little girl could very well be part of Will, and he quickly had to grace her small head with a kiss; otherwise, he would have combust.

She gave a sharp squawk at the kiss but soon quieted when the nurse brought over a bottle of formula for him to start feeding her. He grinned, a few stray tears slipping down his cheeks as she latched onto the nipple with vigor and started to suck. He watched in adoration as she ate and only looked up when he heard another cry, much like she had made upon being evacuated, the nurse holding up their second born. Will went with the nurse this time, Hannibal staying where he was to keep feeding his precious girl but still trying to get a good look. He watched, emotions caught in this throat as Will laughed and held what could only be their son close to his chest with a look Hannibal knew he mirrored.

Will walked over to the two of them, eyes bright like sea glass with tears as he settled down on the couch with him and his širdelė. Hannibal all too eagerly moved to see when Will shifted their son so Hannibal could look at him as Hannibal did for Will with their daughter. 

_Oh._

Their children were so lovely, but their son had very fine pale hair where their girl had dark tufts. Where her cheeks were round but slim, his cheeks looked like chipmunks readying themselves for winter. His beautiful round boy also seemed to have something that belonged to Hannibal. Along that perfect brow, if one were to lean in close under the light, you could see the very fine blond hair he had for eyebrows. He huffed a laugh, knowing that this little boy must have taken after him, that was until the little boy opened his bleary eyes and Hannibal got a glimpse of sky blue eyes before he shut them again. He knew, of course, he knew, that blue eyes on a baby meant nothing. Most children were born with blue eyes; whether they stayed that color or not was the real question. His son’s eyes could stay blue, go green or amber like his or even the dark brown that Mischa and his mother had.

Who even knew if their daughter’s hair would stay dark or if their son’s hair started to darken. The mystery of who had whose genes was an exciting guessing game as he watched Will take another small bottle of formula from a nurse and started to feed their son with a look of such awe it made Hannibal’s heart sing. Will was right. All those years ago, he would make a good father, and Hannibal could feel his eyes grow wet again as he watched Will stroke one of the boy’s cheeks with a gentle finger while he fed him. He moved their girl in his arms so that the twins laid head to head, so they could look at the absolute wonders that they had created and Martha had brought into the world. He let out a content sigh as he felt Will’s head rest against his, turning his head just slightly to give the smallest muzzle to his husband.

“We’re a family,” Will whispered, tracing their boy’s nearly invisible brows, and Hannibal pressed the pad of his thumb against their girl’s small bow-shaped lips.

“No,” Hannibal answered. “You and I have always been and will forever be a family. We’ve only just added to it, my love.”

**Author's Note:**

> Mano meilė - My love
> 
> Brangusis - Darling


End file.
